


Julia Child He Ain't

by WinterEyes



Series: Kid's gonna give me ulcers... [1]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: (father/son but they don't know it yet), Cooking, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Mentor/Protégé, No Spoilers, Pre-Game(s), Trust Issues, young nathan drake - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:39:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9770723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterEyes/pseuds/WinterEyes
Summary: Sully knows Nate can take care of himself, he just has issue with how well he does it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story was conceived after playing Uncharted 3 but before Uncharted 4, hopefully it still holds up even with the new information we learned in the last game. I've altered things a little to account for Sam, I'm sure he'll turn up in my stories eventually.  
> I also apologise for any mistakes in American ID requirements, hopefully Google hasn't steered me wrong.

When Sully finally gets a chance to really look at Nate, after the running and shooting and abrupt termination of employment is over, he realises this is a 15 year old kid on the wrong side of scrawny. Not that he hasn't seen worse in the streets and back alleys of some of his less savoury job locales, but he figures he'll feel better when a few decent meals gives the kid more muscle to go with those gangling limbs. When they get to Sully's chosen safe-house, well away from Columbia, he makes sure the fridge is always full and leaves it at that. It's not like they are a proper family to eat every meal together after all.

In hind-sight he thinks that first adventure should have sounded some warning bells; what street kid nearly refuses a good meal? One that knows full well that favours can be expensive.

They slot into a fairly easy routine at first - after a few false starts Nate works out that if he is back by dark Sully is happy for him to disappear for part of the day. Sully tries not to press too hard, he figures learning to trust a partner is something he can teach by example. One thing keeps bothering him though, something that could come back to bite them if he really wants to make the kid part of his 'business'. He picks his moment; Nate is curled up with a tattered second hand book and looking something close to relaxed, Sully is conveniently sitting between him and the door. He tried to keep his voice casual, as if he isn't treading around the edges of the teenager's main trigger point - personal information.

 "Kid, do we need to get you a passport and social security card?" he asked, resting his cigar on the edge of the ash tray. "If the kinda people that hire me usually came to places like this, well I'd be out of a job."

Nate glances at him distractedly, attention still mostly on the pages. "I've got paperwork."

"Mind if I take a look?"

That gets his full attention, the book carefully set aside in favour of a cynical smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Why Sully, are you saying you don't trust me?"

He reached into the bag that still never left his side, passing Sully a bundle of paperwork held together by an elastic band before sitting back with arms folded.

Sully glanced through the sheaf. "I thought so. These are good forgeries Nate, but they won't hold up everywhere. We need to get you some professional stuff."

Nate snatched them back with a scowl. "They got me out here didn't they?"

"Out of America is a bit different to getting back in," Sully explained patiently, wondering at the air of defensiveness screaming this was more personal that dodgy paperwork should be. "Luckily I know a guy in Mexico. Actually I know tons of them, but I figure the location of this one should have something to interest you."

"Oh?" It was Nate's turn to try and sound casual, curiosity winning out over sullen silence.

Sully took a long pull on his cigar, savouring victory with the smoke. "Guess you'll see when we get there. Better get an early night kid, we leave first thing."

*

Arriving in the city of Veracruz, Mexico, Sully is prepared to admit he may have let his anticipation of pleasing Nate lead him to make a mistake - they aren't there five minutes before he recognises a man he worked with on a Marlowe job. He has no idea if this is a problem or not; if they're lucky then she valued her reputation more than the ring and no-one is looking for them, if not then he's brought them somewhere they stick out like a sore thumb.

Luckily the stifling heat gives him an excuse to get them quickly indoors, for once Nate is happy to stay and make friends with the air-conditioning while Sully gets them supplied and settled in. The landlord is more than happy to take a few extra pesos to send a message to Sully's contact...and tell them if anyone starts asking questions around town.

He had barely settled back on the apartment's fraying sofa when Nate strolled out of the bathroom, hastily towel-dried hair still sticking up at the back as he headed for the door. Sully felt his heart sink, he thought of Nate's last run-in with Marlowe's men and couldn't shake off the image of him bolting if he learned the truth.

He waved a hand at Nate, ignoring his suppressed flinch at sudden movement.

"Sorry kid, not right now. If we're gonna take jobs for the high rollers I need to start teaching you like I promised, it won't always be slipping past sleepy guards in a backwater museum."

Nate snorted. "Cartagena is hardly a backwater. Besides, I seem to remember my skills being enough for one old guy who didn't even know he'd been had."

"No need to be a wise ass and less of the old. You do a good lift, but if that was all you needed to get ahead in life then we wouldn't be hanging around Mexico in the summer." Sully pulled a slim set of lock picks out of the pocket of his shirt, heartened by the interested gleam that sparked in the boy's eyes.

Nate turned away from the door with a final reluctant glance, dragging over a chair to sit across from him. "What, no hairpins?"

"Strictly for emergencies kid." He passed over one of the delicate tools. "Say hello to the snake rake..."

*

Sully puts him through his paces over the next few days; driving, shooting and fighting lessons all fill the time until the forgeries will be finished and they can head off. Each day that Nate is dead on his feet by the end is one less night Sully has to lie awake, listening for the creak of floorboards. He can tell the kid is getting restless by the end of the week, luckily he has a major distraction up his sleeve.

"Is that...?" Nate spun around, for once looking his age as he grinned at Sully with unguarded enthusiasm.

"San Juan de Ulúa," Sully finished, pointing at the fortress across the water. "Famous for being where the Spanish Navy almost destroyed John Hawkins' British fleet in 1568. I hear only two ships escaped - his and the one captained by his young cousin."

"Hawkins in the _Minion_ and Francis Drake in the _Judith_ ," Nate agreed, already pulling the ever-present journal out of his bag to sketch the looming walls. His pencil paused and he looked back, almost shyly. "Thanks, this is awesome."

Sully lit a cigar and leant back into some scant shade, relishing the sea breeze. "You're welcome kid, just don't stay out in the sun too long. We can always hit the museum if it gets too hot out here."

After about an hour the sun had moved round enough that the bench was getting uncomfortably hot, any casual tourists had long since fled to somewhere cooler. Sully stood and stretched, looking over to where Nate was crouched by an old cannon, taking a rubbing of the worn crest on its side.

"Time for a break, no sense in frying to a crisp when we could be checking out a nice air-conditioned museum."

Nate glanced up and nodded, slotting the piece of paper between journal pages as he stood. Sully made to leave but turned back at the smack of the book hitting the ground, the next minute he was running  as Nate swayed dizzily and crumpled.

As he moves him out of direct sunlight, Sully's brain registers this is the first time he's touched the kid since he hauled him up on that rooftop and, at the same time, how the hell does he feel skinnier under his clothes than he did then? Nate's lips are almost white but the awareness is starting to come back into glazed eyes so Sully resists the urge to swear and instead holds the teenager's shoulders down as he tries to bolt upright.

"Easy kid, hold your horses. I don't want you keeling over on me again." Sully is worried for a moment that the confusion in Nate's eyes will give way to panic but sees the exact moment when his voice is recognised. "That's it, sit up slowly. It'll give your damn head a chance to stop spinning."

The colour that had been missing from Nate's face comes back all at once in an embarrassed flush. "I'm fine," he said curtly, shrugging away from Sully's hand. "Shouldn't have got up so fast in the heat, that's all."

"Like hell it is!" Sully growled. "You feel like a goddamn scarecrow; if you're fine, how come you seem worse off than when you were living rough?"

Nate shoots him a look of pure, angry incredulity. "How is this my fault? You've kept me with you every second you're awake - I've barely had time to go out and find myself anything!"

Sully feels like they're reading off different scripts. "What do you need to find Nate?" he starts slowly. "I've been keeping the house stocked every place we've been."

Nate looks like someone trying to explain fractions to a four year old. "Yeah, but that's your food." He keeps his gaze on the floor, scuffing a foot through some loose gravel. "You're already putting a roof over my head, how much more do you want me to owe you?"

Sully gapes, momentarily lost for words as his brain tries to untangle the degree of screwed in this conversation. His first thought is to try and shake some sense into the kid, his second is exactly how well that could go. "Okay, you...sit, stay, I'll be back in a minute."

Stalking off towards the nearest shop gives him time to think and try and make sense of the situation. He was beginning to realise that a shitty childhood wasn't giving him as much connection to Nate's state of mind as he'd thought it would; how could you sit back and wait for trust from a kid that thought providing food was a power play? He'd be damned if he gave up on him though. Talent was one thing, the flashes of the real person behind all those walls was something Sully would fight to keep.

"If I meet anyone from your past I'm cracking skulls..." he muttered to himself on the way back, half surprised to see Nate still sitting where he'd been left. Sitting down beside him, Sully passed over a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. "On the house kid, call it an investment in your future."

He waited until Nate had taken a drink before continuing. "I'm gonna head back to pick up those papers, you can take the long way back to the apartment...in case you need anything on the way. You'd better keep a low profile, I saw someone I recognised from Marlowe's gang the other day and we don't want to make things easy for her."

Nate gave him a searching look. "I'll be careful, I know how to keep my head down."

"I bet you do," Sully replied, standing and dusting down his trousers. "Just make it back before dark so I can get my beauty sleep."

"Wouldn't want to stand in the way of that," said Nate, finally with the ghost of a grin. "Thanks Sully."

*

Sully waits a whole two days before putting his plan into motion, two days of studiously ignoring that Nate is sticking close like an apology,  slipping away only when absolutely necessary but still with nothing extra disappearing from the fridge or cupboards.

He keeps his back to the door as he calls from the kitchen, ostensibly keeping his eyes on his task. "Damn it...Nate, I made too much pasta. Do you want some?"

He turns to see the kid standing in the doorway, looking as unsure of himself as he did in that bar weeks ago. "It'll only go in the bin if you don't."

That seems to be the right thing to say and Nate takes the first, hesitant step into the room. He raises an eyebrow as Sully slides a steaming bowl towards him. "You made too much sauce too?"

Sully smirked at him and spread his hands, the picture of innocence. "What can I say, the Navy teaches you to cook for multiples of ten. Maybe we'll see how well you do next time."

Nate's eyes widen comically. "No-one wants that, Sa... _they_ say I'm a terrible cook."

Sully pretends to ignore the slip, focusing on something more important. "Well maybe we add that to the things I can teach you. I can't promise anything fancy, but a single man needs to know how to feed himself. Always good for impressing the ladies as well..."

"I don't need to hear that Sully," Nate groaned theatrically, dropping the fork to stick his fingers in his ears.

 "Fine, then I'll make you a bet. If I get you making something edible tomorrow night, I'll wash up. If it tastes like crap then you do."

"I think cooking and washing dishes on the same night is against some unwritten code."

"Then you better hope you're a fast learner," Sully goaded, sticking out his hand to shake.

Nate clasped his hand. "You're on."

Sully sat back, disguising a relieved grin with a mouthful of pasta; it might only be the tiniest foothold but it was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> This series will hopefully be a set of loosely connected stories throughout the Nathan and Sully timeline - how many depends on how many ideas I come up with!


End file.
